And my personal favorite, “You ar a god techr.” I’m sure she meant, “You are a good teacher.”
As I’m getting ready for my date, I search my closet for something I can wear with my new shoes, finding a cream-and-gold purse for a perfect complement to my black lace dress with a gold lamé sheath underneath.
Liam rings the doorbell right at five thirty. “You look great,” he says, kissing my cheek.
You didn’t even look.
“Thanks. Is it still a secret, or can you tell me the plan for tonight?”
“I’d like to surprise you.” His smile is charming, but his eyes are reserved.
We walk into to a bungalow-style restaurant. There are only six small tables, each nestled into its own secluded setting. Ours is tucked in an alcove with walls on two sides and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a river on the third side. I’m seated so when I look at Liam I’m also looking upstream, where large boulders are stirring white water in the shallow current. He obviously planned a leisurely dinner for us—this restaurant only serves a seven-course meal.
The first course has a cold appetizer of a sweet potato blini with dill crème fraiche topped with beautiful black caviar. I doubt we’re as hungry as we appear as we both eat without speaking to each other. We have a personal server and another person dedicated to clear our plates and silver away after each course. At least they speak a few words now and again. “Are you ready for your next course?” “May I take this?” “For you, sir.”
During the soup course Liam asks, “How is your meal?”
“It’s delicious. Little tastes of so many things I love to eat,” I say robotically. “Are you enjoying it?” Lame.
“Yes. How was your school party?”
“Mrs. Milton had the students each create a page then put them together to make me a book. I’ll have to show it to you. And thanks for bringing Ruby over. My students really liked her, and she was happy to be there.” Okay, ice broken. We can talk now.
But the next course comes and Liam and I just keep staring at the food. We’re more than an hour into a meal that’s likely to take another hour—this kind of date probably seemed like a good idea when we were still talking to each other. And we
would
be talking, if we didn’t feel so awkward about the flowers. It isn’t like we’re having a bad date—it’s just so guarded. It’s like we just met and I’m having my birthday date with a stranger. This is Liam before we started dating, before the soccer game and our first kiss.
Peach sorbet should offer a sweet contrast to the salad course, but to me it’s nearly tasteless as my mind replays the flower scene.
“You had dinner with your mother on Sunday, right?”
“I did—it was so good to be home. She surprised me with a present. I thought the car was enough, but she gave me these great shoes.” I push my foot out from under the linen cloth at the front of the table as Liam takes another dip into his sorbet. I thought he would at least feign interest by looking.
“I’m glad I went. When she brought down the car, her friend, Bill, was with her. I wondered if they were dating but she said they aren’t. She said she’s often lonely. I guess I hadn’t realized that being single would be hard for her. I mean, lots of people are single—we’re single—and it’s just the way it is. She sounded so sad and really couldn’t talk about it for long. She said she still feels married.”
“Sometimes it’s hard for us.”
“What?”
“Sometimes being single is hard for us too.”
He’s right—this feels hard. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t want to get Mom’s expectations up by talking about Liam with her, but it was me. Maybe I manufactured the feelings of closeness and possibility, and now, I’m feeling disappointment for both. Since we don’t have a lot to say, we finish our courses sooner than the rest of the guests tonight. We complete the fifth course and move on to the next while many diners are still finishing their salad.
I try to think of the worse first date I’ve ever had, since they are usually the worst possible dates. Nope. None come close to the pain of this one. Even a bad first date has an out. You aren’t emotionally connected. Time may crawl by or your date may make your skin crawl, but there’s no big risk involved. This feels of loss. Each minute that ticks by stacks like a barrier between us.
Liam nervously turns his watch around on his wrist, and I scoot the crab stuffing out of the spiraled pork roulade and around the plate before eating it. A palate cleanser of lemon-mint ice is followed by our last course, dessert. Crème brûlée with strawberry slices and whipped cream, which is also eaten in silence. No “mmm”s, or “Oh, this is so good.” We don’t touch each other in any way, or look into each other’s eyes, or share a spoon.
We leave the restaurant at nine, and I’m back on my doorstep thirty minutes later.
“Thank you for a very nice birthday.” Nice is the right word here—agreeable, friendly, yup, just peachy. And thanks to the surprise floral delivery, it isn’t in any way romantic. I feel guilty. Which I’m not. Doesn’t matter—I feel guilty. He feels, well, I don’t know—maybe distant or shut down.
“You’re welcome. It’s not over. I have a gift for you.” He hands me a purple velvet bag with a gold drawstring.
It’s probably jewelry. I can feel the fluid weight of it in my hand. “Before I open this, I have to ask…” I feel my stomach tremble a bit, but I resume. “Are we going to continue seeing each other?” That sounds so formal. “I can understand how you didn’t want to break a date with a girl on her birthday, but this has been kind of painful. I don’t know where I stand. I guess we’ve never said where we stood before, but that was okay because it felt like we were moving forward. Tonight felt like we were moving backward. Oh, my gosh, I hope you felt uncomfortable too—not because I would enjoy that, but because if you didn’t, then it was just me. That could be it—it’s just me. Did I do this? Was it hard because I made it hard?”
“Sophie, I…Just a minute, please let me think.” Liam’s pauses are very long. “Sophie, it’s not you.”
That means it’s me.
“I don’t know what to think. I thought I would figure it out during dinner, but I didn’t. Maybe I should still ask you what I planned to ask.”
I’m puzzled and my fingernails are beginning to dig into my palms. My legs are trembling. From cold? From anxiety?
“Would you be able…I mean would you like…um, my parents and sister and her family are coming here for Thanksgiving this year. I’d like them to meet you. I wondered if you would come over for dessert that night. Maybe I shouldn’t be asking, now. You know, the flowers. I’ve been thinking about it all evening. The flowers were kind of a surprise, not
them
, but that there’s someone who gives you flowers. I wanted to introduce you as my girlfriend, but maybe just friend, if that’s better for you right now. Sophie, if I’ve been reading this wron. . .”
My mouth is on his before he can finish the sentence. The tension of this date bursts in sudden relief. This is obviously another surprise for him as I lean into him and he falls against the door, cinching my arms around his shoulders. Blood is racing behind my lips, and my breath is shallow and quick as my hands rise to press his face to mine. I suspect his instinct to hold me kicks in before he understands my enthusiasm.
“Yes, I want to meet your family as your girlfriend.”
He kisses my lips, then across my cheekbone down to the hollow below my ear, ending in a long, tight embrace, his face settled in my neck. Slowly he releases me, but only slightly, and whispers in my ear without moving to look in my eyes, “Sophie, who’s Kevin? I’m sorry to ask, but I’ve been thinking about it all day—I just can’t stop.” His hand rubs a small circle on my back. “Is he important to you?” Then he releases me and studies my face. There’s still uncertainty in his expression, but November Liam is back.
“No. I only met him a few days ago.” I tell Liam about the fortunate real estate deal, then the partnership offer. “I don’t know how he knew it was my birthday. I actually thought the flowers were from you before opening the card. I was thinking about how it might be a little tricky to keep our relationship a secret. We have a relationship, right?” He nods, so I continue. “To keep it a secret, why you would send me flowers. Then when I saw his name on the card, it didn’t really register who he was. When it did, I was embarrassed. It was thoughtful of Kevin, but it was kind of a shock too.”
Liam’s face and jaw have loosened. “You’re seeing him on Saturday?”
Right. That was on the card too. “Our partnership meetings are on Saturday mornings.”
Liam reaches for my hand, still holding the velvet bag. “May I come in while you open this?”
We step inside, and I realize how cold it is outside.
“Would you like some hot chocolate?” Liam nods and follows me to the kitchen. We throw our coats on the couch as we pass by. “Raspberry or mint?”
“Mint.”
I place the mugs of water in the microwave as I hunt down the mix, spoons, and marshmallows, then we sit on the barstools and take a few sips. I wrap my hands around the mug. Sooo warrrrm!
“You’re stalling.” He smiles, nudging the bag closer to me. I pull open the top and drop a beautiful necklace into my palm. It has a simple, long platinum chain with a stylized flower of marquis shaped topaz cast as petals.
“I think the jeweler meant to suggest a sunflower with this design, but as soon as I saw it, I thought of dandelions.” His hand cups mine.
“I love dandelions,” I say as my eyes begin to fill, remembering the day he sent my students in with hands full of blossoms.
“May I put it on you?” I nod, but my voice is unable to answer. He picks up the necklace and stands behind me. His hand brushes my hair over one shoulder, then he fixes the chain around my neck. When he kisses the clasp, my neck erupts in chills. “Let’s see.” His smile grows, and his eyes slide up to meet mine. “That is an amazing dress.”
The best part of the date follows as we talk and dunk marshmallows and kiss and drink hot chocolate.
I think about Liam a lot on Thursday, each time my hand caressing the little flower at the bottom of the chain.
November 17, 2007
Newbie Blog:
Pop Quiz
I have always wanted to give a pop quiz. There’s only one question and it’s multiple choice. Good luck!
1. What would you do if you had a student who has missed twenty-one days of school already (we’ve only had sixty days so far)?
a) Discuss attendance with parent.
b) Discuss attendance with principal.
c) Pick up the child on my way to work.
d) Arrange for student to walk with another student.
e) Call child’s home to wake up parent to wake up child.
f) Ignore the needs of the other twenty-three students so I can re-teach this student for thirty minutes one-on-one on the days she comes.
g) Keep student after school on the days she does attend to catch up missed lessons.
h) This is a trick question—it would never happen.
i) Find a way to punish the parents when child doesn’t come.
j) Pay her parents to bring her to school.
k) Call child welfare services.
l) Both A & B; that will solve it.
m) Find a tutor for the child, who is willing be on call to come days she comes to school.
n) Send home a thank-you note when she attends.
o) Enroll the child in summer school and weekend school and night school.
p) Hire her mother to work at the school and tell her she can bring her daughter to work with her.
q) Video record all lessons and send them home.
r) Adopt the child.
s) Keep her in for recess and lunch; suspend the “don’t-talk-with-your-mouth-full” rule.
t) Ignore it.
u) Send home an earnings estimate for someone who doesn’t graduate from high school.
v) Hold student back every other year; she will only be thirty when she graduates.
w) Give her prizes each time she comes to school.
x) None of the above.
y) All of the above.
z) There is no one right answer, but plenty of wrong ones.